


Break Glass(es)

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [31]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Chase scene ft. blurry sight, F/M, Farmer's Markets are lit, Happy Ending, Impaired Vision, Jake with Glasses, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Peraltiago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: “This sucks,” Jake whined, rubbing at his perpetually dirty glasses' lens.“Well, you shouldn’t have forgotten to reorder your contacts then.” Amy replied unsympathetically - she had reminded him a few dozen times, after all - even as she handed him a glasses rag.Request fic!
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: Foray into B99 [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117





	Break Glass(es)

“This sucks,” Jake whined, rubbing at his perpetually dirty glasses' lens.

“Well, you shouldn’t have forgotten to reorder your contacts then.” Amy replied unsympathetically - she had reminded him a few dozen times, after all - even as she handed him a glasses rag.

“I know, I know.” Jake replied, lifting his glasses to check, scowling at the impossibly resilient smudge. He scrubbed at it some more with the proffered cloth, deciding the smudge was passable and pushing them onto his face. The smudge remained, taunting him with its inconvenience. “I’ll survive. I _suppose_.”

Amy rolled her eyes, amused by his dramatics, before patting him on the shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I do think you look cute with them on.”

Jake’s scowl vanished, and he flashed her a grin. “Oh, really?”

Amy shrugged, a slight smile creeping onto her face.

Jake surveyed the street again - this time with halfway decent sight - grin fading as he saw…

“Nothing. Still.” He sat back against the seat of the car, taking a drink from coffee that had long since gone cold. “Are we sure he’s coming by here?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Milton comes here every Thursday for his mail. He’ll be here.”

“Unless he got tipped off.” Jake muttered, still glaring out the windshield like it would make the guy manifest. They’d been here for over forty minutes, and there was no sign of him - he was getting bored.

Amy shook her head. “I doubt that’s-” She sat forward. “There he is. In the blue cap.”

Jake nodded, and the pair got out of the car.

Milton was walking into the post office, and Amy and Jake sidled up to the door, loitering outside of it. Amy raised an eyebrow, and Jake held his phone up to his ear in the pantomime of a phone call.

The moment Milton stepped out of the building, a massive box - which was full of drugs, according to their CI - in his hand, door closing behind him, Amy stepped forward.

“Peter Milton? NYPD.”

Milton threw the box at her and booked it - straight into Jake, who blocked his path.

“Milton-” Jake’s words were cut off as Milton’s fist collided with his nose. He stumbled back, one hand clutching at his definitely broken nose. A few large cracks across his vision indicated that his glasses hadn’t survived unscathed, either.

Fan- _fucking_ -tastic.

Milton sprinted past him, Jake glanced back at Amy. “You okay?” He asked her.

She nodded, wincing as she stood. “You go after him, I’ll call it in.” She said.

Jake nodded, before turning and running after Milton. He squinted, realizing belatedly that he really couldn’t see all that well when his vision was distorted by the lens being out of place.

Perfect day for him to forget contacts, really. He was definitely stocking up next time. At least the smudge wasn’t as noticeable anymore.

Jake squinted, seeing the blue cap turn a corner. Jake sprinted, rounding the corner a few seconds later. A fist came at his face - round 2, seriously? - and Jake barely managed to dodge it in time. His glasses clattered onto the ground, and Jake didn’t even have time to look to see where they had landed before a follow-up _crunch_ from the direction of Milton’s ugly boot - really, it was an ugly shade of gray - indicated their fate.

_Fuck._

Milton backed up a few steps, before turning to run again.

Mentally cursing - he didn’t have the extra breath to say it aloud, after all - Jake continued running after him, squinting hard. As Milton rounded another corner, Jake saw a flutter of a blue blob flutter to the ground.

Jake knew what it was before he even reached it, barely catching it a glance as it came into focus - yeah, the cap all right. And this street was the fucking farmer’s market. Packed to the gills with tourists, hipsters, and just… people in general. Well, Jake grimaced to himself, this whole day was just… not going his way.

He squinted hard, trying to see people’s faces as he went by them. No one was running, so Milton was probably hoping to blend in. The dude was pretty unremarkable, with a generic face and all. His clothes were nondescript, too, and the only thing Jake had really noticed was the fucking cap.

Jake nearly tripped over a bit of broken pavement - fuck, he couldn’t see worth shit - before remembering. Oh yeah. His fucking shoes.

Jake kept moving, eyes on the ground - squinting so hard that he could feel a headache forming. Or maybe that had something to do with the whole broken nose thing.

If people were staring at his face - Jake could feel the blood dripping down his face - he didn’t notice. Wasn’t like he’d be able to see their expressions, anyway. Besides, it was New York. Most people wouldn’t blink if he was covered from head to toe in blood, let alone having a fucking nosebleed.

Jake spotted a flash of ugly gray, and looked up to see the wearer watching him. Well, presumably - Jake couldn’t really make out facial features all that well, he was still kinda far away, but the dude’s face was pointed towards him.

Jake made his gaze slide past the guy like he was irrelevant, continuing to walk - this time slightly angled though, so he was still nearing Milton without looking like he was. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could feel the man’s eyes burning into him.

Jake rounded a group of chatting hipsters, before sliding behind a market stall. The man selling… whatever the fuck that beverage was, probably alcoholic, looked like he was about to protest, but Jake held up his badge and the man threw up his arms, muttering something under his breath.

Jake assumed it was unflattering.

Jake could still see Milton - he was standing in the same place as before. Well, more accurately, Jake could see blobs in the shade of that gray on the guy’s feet. The identifier vanished and reappeared from view as passerby went between them, and Jake slowly exited the market stall, approaching Milton from behind - the guy’s head was turned towards where Jake had left to, and, while Jake couldn’t see his face, the guy’s demeanor seemed to fall under the vein of self-satisfied.

Jake clapped his hand onto Milton’s shoulder cheerily. “Hey, Peter Milton! NYPD.” he said brightly, squinting hard at the guy’s face as he turned. Yep, that scowl definitely belonged to his perp.

As Milton drew back his fist again, Jake’s grip tightened. “You can punch if you want, but I’m not letting you get away.”

Milton tried to punch him anyway.

Well, Jake reflected as he handcuffed Milton against the asphalt of the street, at least he didn’t have to keep running - his legs hurt and he wasn’t in the mood to explain to Holt how he lost the perp twice.

Milton cursed up a storm, hipsters just walking past either side of them without so much as a glance.

Classic New York.

Jake hauled Milton up, calling in his location over the radio.

“Can you move?” Someone asked testily, “You’re blocking my stall.”

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” Jake said, awkwardly stepping Milton and himself to the side.

“Please, as if anyone’s going to willingly drink that kale shit.” Milton snapped.

“Kale?” A tourist asked excitedly, having clearly been eavesdropping.

Jake smiled tightly, wishing to be anywhere else. He actually liked farmer’s markets - not as much as Terry, of course, but very few people could - but was decidedly against them when he was on the clock.

At least Milton hadn’t been armed - that could have posed a serious threat. Instead, the only guns he had were his massive biceps - although, once again, not as much as Terry.

Jake squinted as a person in black approached him, trying to make out if they were a cop. They were, and Jake handed over Milton without complaint, squinting to read their badge ID.

“Damn, Jake,” Harrison said, “You lost your glasses?”

“Almost immediately, yeah.” Jake replied, trying to mask his irritation at not recognizing them with a lightened tone.

Harrison patted him on the back. “That sucks, man. You need a ride back to the station?”

“Nah, Amy can take me.” Jake said, but Harrison shook his head.

“Santiago had to go straight back, actually, ‘cause of the mailbox.” Harrison shrugged, “She took the car, too, so you’re stuck with us.”

“Great. A ride would be good, then.”

“Want us to look for your glasses, too, or…?”

“Nope, they’re gone. Thanks, though.”

“Alright. We can get you patched up there, too.”

The three headed back to the precinct without complaint - Jake squinting out the window, while Milton sat silently in the backseat - having invoked his right to remain silent - and Harrison played the shitty country music they liked so much.

Ugh. Jake would almost have preferred to walk back to the precinct rather than listen to non-Dolly Parton country music.

Every bump in the road made Jake’s face twinge - his nose had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but it was still definitely broken. He wasn’t looking forward to getting that put back in place.

He thanked Harrison for the ride, trudging up to his floor of the precinct. He had to file his report, and then he’d take care of the nose thing. Besides, he couldn’t exactly drive himself to the hospital.

Jake slumped to his desk, and Amy looked up from her own report to gape at him.

“Babe, what happened?”

“I got Milton.” Jake shrugged, “Broke my glasses, though.”

Amy blinked. “Well, I guess it’s good that you ordered more lenses today, right?”

“ _Fuck_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Total Request: _Casecation: Mentions both Jake and Amy wear contact lenses. Something happens and Jake has to wear his glasses, but during confrontation with perp they get broken (obvi his nose really hurts coz yikes) so now he has neither lenses nor glasses and needs to catch the perp but can’t see._
> 
> Thank you for your request! I enjoyed doing this prompt. I hadn't done impaired vision in a fic before :)
> 
> I love comments (hint hint) <3


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